


Eternity

by aeber



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, I wrote this for lack of grima love, M/M, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeber/pseuds/aeber
Summary: AU where Chrom seals Grima and himself into another dimension and they live there till the end of time. A little plot, mostly porn. (i just love grima robin fight me





	Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> hasty(?) oneshot. I just needed an excuse to write some grima/chrom so here you go

It feel strange, to be in that place.

 

The world is doused in eternal twilight. It doesn’t seem more like limbo that this reality does like a dream. Beyond invisible boundaries, he knows that his other family is still there. He knows that the Shepherds are living, breathing, laughing among themselves. His kingdom is saved, peace reigns. Lissa reigns as exalt, even without the brand, and takes care of his daughter as well as the halidom she is in charge of.

 

He knows this because he watches over them from afar. When he touches his hand on the window it shimmers and shows him the pleasantries exchanged by the castle staff. The burbles of Lucina as she interacts with her older self from the future. And he smiles, knowing that his sacrifice was not for naught.

 

And there, too, is Robin.

 

Or rather, what has become of Robin. He’s come to realize that Grima and Robin, sometimes, are synonymous with each other. He can tell them apart by the signature pout Robin does when he’s hunched over the thousands of books shelved into the mysterious realm, or the dark scowl Grima makes when he catches sight of Chrom. But as time has progressed Chrom finds that he can tell them apart less and less. Grima stopped calling him ‘wretched exalt’ a number of dinners ago, and since then he hasn’t really been able to tell at first glance.

 

They eat, sleep and make merry like any normal humans would do. Time seems to flow normally, judging by how the clock ticks and he grows hungry if he doesn’t eat. They share a bed. They dine at the same table, save for the first few weeks when Grima locked himself away and hissed whenever Chrom got close.

 

He listens, when Grima talks about this realm. He tells Chrom how the place has changed, from the cold, dark prison of banishment to the homely, castle-like structure so much like their old home. Chrom’s memories have shaped it so, he explains. It’s more bearable now.

 

_“You could have put up lights or placed some beds in the darkness, then.”_

 

_“I didn’t know. I had no concept of comfort. Nobody was there to provide any.”_

 

There are times when Robin grows restless and he summons Chrom only to touch him on the cheek and kiss him at the nape of his neck. Chrom slides his tongue along Robin’s clavicle and sucks on it while his hands busy themselves on the insides of Robin’s thighs. Robin sighs with contentment and rests his legs above Chrom’s shoulders as they switch positions. Slowly, they build a rhythm between them, savoring each moment like their last, even with an eternity ahead.

 

Not today. 

 

He immediately registers the abrupt click in personality when Robin falters mid-touch. Grima’s bright eyes stare back at him. Chrom leans back and exhales. He readies himself to leave his chambers. That doesn’t happen.

 

Instead the corners of Robin’s lips twitches and he pulls Chrom down with him. His fangs graze Chrom’s lips as they crash together, nails digging into his shoulders as their tongues entwine and all there’s left is the heat- the burning, unbearable heat that was Robin’s mouth. It’s wet, sloppy and desperate. He doesn’t mind the teeth, not as long as he gets to taste Robin like this, sweet and coppery, over and over again. He kisses back with the same intensity but it’s not the same, not with each breath stolen away by another chance to claim his lips, and another, till they drown in each other. 

 

They break apart with a string of saliva between them. Robin wastes no time in dragging the point of his fangs down Chrom’s neck. Bruises blossom on the exalt’s chest. Chrom’s breath hitches as Robin latches a mouth on a nipple and bites soft enough to not draw blood. He plays with the other nipple with his thumb and gropes it, wetting his fingers with saliva, sucking and licking with his mouth in alternation. He continues until Chrom can’t take it anymore. He slides his hand, sensually, down Robin’s back to find a dip full of feathers, not enough to make out wings but enough to fill his touch with soft black plumes. Robin hums with satisfaction and moves on to Chrom’s navel, where his cock is laid bare and flush in the open. He presses a light kiss to the tip.

 

He pushes Robin off gently.

 

“Let me suck you off,” he breathes, already kneeling.

 

He piles the breeches on the discarded clothing pile. Robin is equally as hard if nor more. Chrom mouths at the tip, tasting precum. Robin exhales and threads his fingers into Chrom’s hair. The sensation drives Chrom forth to swallow it whole. It’s bigger than he thinks; it hits his throat but he’s long overcome his gag reflex. He hollows his cheeks and sucks. Robin half sighs, half growls as he takes him all in, swirling his tongue along a vein and working his mouth up and down the shaft. He’s never seen Chrom do this, on his knees, red and flushed with saliva and precum dribbling down his chin. Without much thought Robin gives several light thrusts into his mouth. Chrom groans in reply and shudders, mouth full of cock and still so, so beautiful. He almost wants to get down to kiss him. 

 

He doesn’t. Yet. He warns Chrom with a whisper of his name and the exalt opens his blue eyes in approval. He feels the tremors of pleasure seizing control of his limbs as he comes into his mouth, the floaty aftereffects of orgasm tingling on his skin even after Chrom swallows it, mostly, the rest on the bridge of his nose and his cheek. He wipes it away with a finger and raises it to his lips.

 

Robin grabs his hand and kisses him. He can taste himself on Chrom’s tongue. He leans in more and more, suckling on Chrom’s tongue until Chrom loses his balance and collapses back first onto the bed. Their hands are still clasped together. Robin unlaces his fingers to palm at Chrom’s cock, hard and so near the brink of release. With a couple of hard jerks Chrom comes, deep in their kiss and thrumming in it, in hot white ropes spilling over himself and Robin. He spasms as Robin touches him in the sensitive afterglow. Each feathery touch sends him moaning like a bitch in heat. He clings onto Robin like a hanging man grapples for purchase, he’s hard again in seconds, desperate for friction.

 

“Robin,” he gasps. Robin frowns. His eyes, still pools of blood red, dart to the dresser, but decides against it at the last moment as he presses his fingers against Chrom’s lips. Chrom does without instruction, coating the digits with his mouth, leaving a full, viscous mess on Robin’s hand. Robin can feel the heat of his breath on his fingertips. He wastes no time in pressing a first finger in, earning a sharp hiss from Chrom. It’s tight around him, the ring of muscle offering resistance from inexperience.

 

He’s never done this before, Robin thinks, as he expertly loosens him enough to slide in a second. Then again, he’s never done anything with anyone except him. His touch, his body is for him and him alone. The thought fills Robin with a strange glow of pride and warmth. Chrom, splayed on the bed, skin littered with bite marks and sweat dripping down the ends of his hair. Gripping at the sheets and half his face buried to stifle his moans. Thighs quivering with the effort, pupils blown, his cock straining against his stomach.

 

For him, for eternity.

 

He brushes against the bump and Chrom nearly sobs with pleasure. So when he inserts another finger he makes sure to rub against it and Chrom cries out, pushing back, fucking himself on Robin’s fingers. Robin accommodates him by reaching in and licking, nibbling at the shell of his ear. They stay like this for a while as Robin prepares him and thumbs his cock idly at the same time. It comes as a surprise when Chrom comes for a second time without warning. Chrom blushes in embarrassment but Robin only laughs, softly. He swipes some of the cum onto his cock as Chrom straddles him, an arm draped over his shoulder. 

 

He guides Robin’s cock to his entrance and slowly, lowers himself. He’s breathing heavily. Robin can feel Chrom around him, tight and hot, velvety walls closed around his cock as he buries himself to the hilt. He lets Chrom accustom himself to the feeling of being full before staring at a slow pace. Chrom mouths at Robin’s shoulder, and Robin speaks. I want to hear you. I want to feel all of you.

 

He complies. Robin quickens their rhythm and snaps his hips in tandem to Chrom’s steady movement. There’s nothing left but the sound of their moans punctuating the silence. The rustling of fabric as they shift on the bed. Growing impatient he turns around and nudges Chrom onto his back. He hefts his legs above his shoulders and rams himself into him, finding his prostrate without difficulty and abusing it, until Chrom’s reduced to a panting, slick mess, moaning unabashedly as he chants Robin’s name like a mantra, a prayer to his one god. The raw sensation on his cock is almost addictive. He revels in the adoration in his eyes, the unfaltering devotion towards him.

 

In another time, it would have made him sick. Now? He can’t really say.

 

He knows when he’s near. As much as his stamina is, he can’t hold out any longer. When this happens he leans in and indulges himself in a fierce kiss. He tastes blood in the tangle of teeth and tongue, wet and sultry. He plunges himself in and hits his prostrate true with each and every thrust. The obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room.

 

He breaks away for air. Chrom looks at him, eyes heavily lidded, and whispers.

 

“I love you.”

 

Robin releases his load groaning, fucking him through orgasm. It drives him over the edge in the hypersensitivity and Chrom does the same moments later raking his nails across Robin’s back. His limbs feel deliciously sore afterwards and he collapses besides Chrom in a heap. The mess of cum is still all over them as he lays motionless, basking in the afterglow.

 

They remain like this for a long while, until sleep threatens to overtake Robin and he shakes himself awake by sitting up. The air is cool without the notion of sex warming his blood. His mind is still reeling, he stays still in contemplation.

 

Chrom, he finds, isn’t asleep. The man rolls over when he finds that he’s lost his source of heat and crawls up beside Robin. His voice is husky and low as he brushes a stray hair from Robin’s forehead.

 

“Come on,” he chides, “let’s get cleaned up.”

 

Robin doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how Chrom can still be so gentle to him when obviously he’s not the Robin he wants. Not when he’s in fact an immortal god sharing the body of his beloved, the one who tried to kill him and destroy the peace of the world. Not when-

 

“Because you’re Robin, and I love you all the same.”

 

Did he say that out loud?

 

“You did.” Chrom admits, before stretching and standing up. Robin looks at him with an undecipherable expression. He scoops up Robin- Robin yelps, surprised- and toes the door open.

 

“What are you doing!”

 

“Taking you to the baths.”

 

Robin stops thrashing. “I could have walked there myself.”

 

“Maybe I just wanted to carry you there,” Chrom replies, a self-satisfied smile on his face. Robin relaxes into Chrom’s arms and appreciates the hard muscle supporting his weight. 

 

Perhaps, he thinks, that this isn’t so bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
